-+Plagg+-

She doesn't say anything. I've heard Sabine and Tom say to her, well, about her when they think she's asleep or are talking in the hall before they walk into the room or after. "I don't have anything special in me. I can't cure shit! All I can do is make people sad or depressed!"

"You don't make me those things, or Tikki." I stay calm.

"That's what I can't wrap my head around! You should be wanting to kill yourself because of me!" I can't stress how much she's acting like a four year old right now.

"Because I told you, I've been through this before and Tikkis been around me while I was like this but Marinette," my eyes water. "You don't need to do that, ever again. If you need to talk, you can talk to me. I can help you because I've been through this before. I won't tell Tikki about it but you need to promise me you won't do it again,or otherwise I will need to tell Tikki and then that means I'll have to watch you take a shower. So it's either a promise or no privacy." I lean back on the couch and look at her as she looks from side to side, pull his her legs closer to her chest.

"Fine," she mumbles. "I promise," she digs her head into her knees and then looks kinda at me. "Can you tell me about your time?"

-+Four Years Ago+-

I hate this stupid party. Why did I let those two dweebs bring me along. I have the car keys so I could just drive away but Wayzz is drunk off his ass while clinging to Nooroo so my job is to get them to their fucking dorm while mine is on the other side of the fucking campus, closest boys dorm to the girls dorms while it also the smallest and is the overflow dorm that is rarely used. You can tell because of the cobwebs in every fucking corner and how only seven other boys live in the dorm, who all joined frats so I'm left alone in the space.

These girls walk up to us and I roll my eyes when the blonde one asks if they can bum a ride to their dorms. Nooroo says sure even though it's my car. I get them their ride and the red headed girl gives me her number and her friends have to literally pull her from me to get her to her dorm. I walk to my own dorm and crash on my bed, the smell of weed and bad grades resting in the air. Why should I even give a shit if I live? The scars lingering on my arms and legs can tell you everything you need to know. Oh, you want to know? Here's a list of shit that's happened to me.

1. Mother and Father hate me
2. Mom and Dad got a divorce
3. Dads best friend sexually assaulted me
4. Called a fag and fairy all through school
5. First girl I kissed told everyone we had sex and I was the worst
6. Was raped by a senior boy when I was a sophomore.
7. Watched the murder of my own Mom happen in front of my eyes
8. Set up everything for my best friends own funeral
9. Read every comment in the school bathroom of me and only me
10. Was abused by all my 'friends'
11. Was abused by my Dads girlfriends and him

The list goes on. And it's not like anyone would really notice, I'm unnoticeable. I get the worst grade and it's not like my professors care. I could get the best, I already know everything there is to know about how to surgically set a prosthetic arm onto the stub of a shoulder on someone and I already know the only surgery to fix someones eyes by replacing them is highly experimental and could kill the participant.

I know all of this. I know everything there is to know I just don't do my work. There's no purpose in it. I look at the scars on my arms that peak from my hoodie sleeves, the noose I tied weeks ago just, hanging, from the low rising beam in my room. Maybe not tonight. I'm too sober to even try.